


The New Era

by Venus



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-11-30
Updated: 1997-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venus/pseuds/Venus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a nightmarish future, Mike searches for his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Era

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this and posted it online in 1997. For this posting, I've fixed a few mistakes and made some minor changes, mostly for clarity. Any similarities to the episode "Same as it Never Was" from the Fox TMNT cartoon are obviously coincidental.

"The world is ending! The world — please, you've got to believe me," the man rasped, his long pale fingers twining into the fabric of Mike's sleeve. His breath smelled musty, and droplets of spittle flew at each word. "Please — you've got to believe me! Please... !" The man's voice rose to a cry of anguish.

Mike kept looking straight ahead at the sea of dark-uniformed people and continued walking. Acknowledging the man could only bring him trouble. Already came the cold sigh of the Sentry-Droids above, focusing in on the disturbance. Mike tried to ignore the pocked face and crazy hair, and the hoarse scream as the fingers unclenched and the man was pulled away by the metallic guards.

Stopping at a light, surrounded by a crowd, Mike buried his feelings of pity and sadness with the self-discipline and rigid boundaries of the unspoken rules which had been forced upon him for thirty-odd years now.

The Sentry-Droid, passed over head like a high precision dragonfly framed against the murky red sky. The light changed, and as one the group crossed the street, all alike in the black uniforms with "SAKI CORPS" printed on the left breast. Seeing someone out of uniform, even a homeless, toothless old man, was rare, but there were some people who didn't work for Saki. A few clever companies were left, nestled here and there, hidden away, their owners either powerful, wealthy or ingenious enough to have escaped Saki's control.

However, although the clothing was uniform, the appearance of the people was not. Was it the effects of the nuclear bombing? Something in the water? Was it caused by the milky liquid in the jar Mike carried? Shades of brown were no longer the standard skin tone, and hair had become rare. Discolored patches and other unusual features were common. Mike stared at the bright pink neck, and flared, webbed ears of a woman near him. Having green skin wasn't so unusual anymore, and Mike rarely got a second glance. But he had to wonder — under these uniforms, was there anyone else with a shell? As much as he was assimilated, he was never completely like the rest.

 

Clicking the door shut behind him, Mike went first to the table in the kitchen area of his small, impersonal apartment. His Rations always came first. He set down the flask, pulling off the lid, and raised it to his lips. This was the only thing that kept him going everyday. All those years ago, the first time they had given it to him, to everyone, it was like he suddenly knew what it was like to live, and he was standing in the sun for the first time and understanding the world.

Mike sucked the scummy surface, congealed into a thin round circle, into his mouth first. It had never been as good since, but now it was just something he needed everyday. He worked his twelve hours per day like everybody else to earn it. He had missed work once, just once with a small flu bug, and hadn't gotten his Rations. The flu symptoms had intensified, until Mike was shaking on the floor, his head throbbing with pain, his stomach churning. He drug himself to work the next day and drank the whole flask down as soon as he got it. Never again would he let that happen.

Sloshing the final bit around in his mouth, with its thick texture and metal taste, Mike wondered if it really warded off the effects of the radiation like the officials told them. Well, one thing was for sure, Mike thought, standing and capping the bottle, when he made sure he got his Rations consistently and on a regular schedule, it helped keep the dreams away. Sometimes, though, it seemed nothing could keep them away, the images of shivering under a thin blanket with three other small bodies, with shells like his, of the thrill of holding a real weapon with a melodic, foreign name, of being hugged against soft fur and a silky kimono.

Now that he had that out of the way, he had to think about the more important things again. Mike leaned, unmoving against the wall, a hard, cold statue. Then, like a snake striking, slammed his fist backwards, impacting the wall with enough force to rattle the window.

With a slow, deliberate grace, his fist raised, and he stared at the three crescent-moon scars on the pale underside of his forearm. His heartbeat sounded in his head, and he set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. With determination, he pulled off his work jacket, and with a glance at the drawn blinds, worked a small data disk from under the rim of his shell. If it ever came out that he had removed information from work — Mike's stomach churned. He wrapped the disk in his jacket, and plopped it down next to his palmtop computer.

Yanking the covers off of the bed and onto the floor, Mike stripped and burrowed under them. He never slept in a bed. A restless sleep came from habit, rather than weariness, and he descended into his past.

 

 _Heart racing under his plastron, Mike jerked into a sitting position. A stack of comic books slid off of the bed. Some loud noise had just awakened him. Fumbling with cold fingers in the blankets for the dull glow of the flashlight, he thought Splinter had come in and caught him reading after lights-out! Oh man, was he — far above something grumbled, and the room lurched._

 _An object struck Mike in the head, and before he could react, he was being pelted and crushed under an enormous weight. Shocked, he pulled himself into his shell as best as he could, a biting pain in his cheek and his knee, as the deafening roar continued, pressing him down until he couldn't breathe, and then reality wavered and dimmed and Mike was looking back at it from far away._

 _Unable to think clearly, Mike felt like he was swimming, until muted voices cut in and drug him back into the cold pain. A scared kitten was crying out somewhere nearby... then Mike realized the sounds were coming from himself._

 _"Michaelangelo! Michaelangelo!!" Splinter's voice had a panicked edge in it, that Mike had never heard before._

 _"Master!" Mike rasped, sucking in a mouthful of grime. "Master! Master!" he tried to push his way out of the cold, angular darkness._

 _There were sounds of the rubble being clawed off, a landslide as his brothers scrambled up the sides. Strong hands pulled Michaelangelo free, scraping his leg painfully against the rubble, and then Splinter drew him against his chest. Mike coughed and choked, and furry hands cleared the dust from his eyes. His brothers watched, with wide eyes from the rubble pile, their faces smeared with dirt and blood._

 _From the streets above came another rumble, bringing down more bricks and dust from above, and Splinter fell forward onto Mike._

 _"Quickly! There is no time!" Splinter barked, pulling Mike up. Leo, Don and Raph sprang from the slipping pile and hit the ground running, but Mike's battered legs gave out under him._

 _Splinter grabbed Mike's arm hard, his sharp nails digging in and breaking the skin, as he yanked Mike behind him, running faster through the chaos of the ruined lair than Mike's short legs could keep up with. The five emerged out into the drainage tunnel as one, the rumbling and banging above intensifying and coming more frequently, small debris and dust raining down into the rushing water._

 _The freezing water was already mid-thigh on Mike, as they sloshed down the dark tunnel to the nearest manhole. Ahead, his brothers ran, sliding a little now and then. Almost to the ladder, Leonardo stopped and his mouth moved, but Mike couldn't make out the words over the rushing water. Splinter yelled something in response, the cold water staining his kimono almost over his waist. The current tugged hard on Mike's legs, and his feet slid on the slimy bricks, the water yanking him away. The hand clamped down on his arm, jerking his shoulder painfully, as the water roared all around him. Mike got his head above water long enough to see Splinter go under, trying to grab Leonardo's outstretched hand desperately. Raphael wrapped one arm around Mike's left leg, the other straining to keep a hold on the metal ladder. Splinter still clung to Mike's arm with one hand for a moment, and then, as though he made a conscious decision, the grip released and Splinter slipped away._

 _Donatello, clinging to the ladder like his brothers, helped Raph haul Mike up. Leonardo's eyes were huge with disbelief, staring after Splinter, as the horrible roar of the water took his frantic words away. Mike coughed warm water onto Raphael's plastron, and stared at Leo, who never looked his way. Leonardo closed his mouth, closed his eyes and opened his hands, letting the river take him after his master. Jerking against Mike, Raphael started to go after them, then clenched his teeth and grabbed Mike by the upper arm, and climbed up after Donatello._

 _The streets of New York were no less hectic, as they emerged, dripping and coughing and dazed, into the smell of sulfur and gas, their ears ringing with the screams from the mobs of people that pushed past. Orange and red lit up the smoggy night sky by turn, and the ground never stayed still. Somehow, Michaelangelo's two small brothers got separated from him in that madness, and even though Mike wandered, cold and hungry and confused for the next few days, looking for them, he never found them again._

 

Stuffing the pain of the memory deep, Mike kicked the covers off with a small snarl. Obviously he wasn't going to have any peace tonight, not after his discovery at work that day. Blinking, his eyes unadjusted to the light, he groped his way into the kitchen. The small bottle on the table was empty, but Mike filled it with water and gulped it down to get the last traces of his Rations, to calm his nerves. It had an airy, metallic taste. Wiping his mouth with one shaking hand, he wished he could keep an extra bottle around for nights like this, but it was impossible. Something in the chemical structure broke down after about twenty hours, taking the potency away.

Heaving a sigh, Mike fished the disk from the fabric of his jacket, and fed it into his small computer, calling up the data on the flickering screen. Even now, staring at it on his screen, he didn't believe it anymore than he did at work, entering data at Saki Corps. Only the exceedingly brilliant, and extremely inept got jobs according to their skill.

Quickly copying the information onto his computer, he erased the disk twice, and slid it into his pocket. A small business, one of the few not already associated with Saki Corps, had been hired. The information wasn't all there, but it seemed that they created robots, the kind that patrolled the streets as security. And the name of the head of the business was Donald Tello. Mike suppressed a shiver, and shut down his computer quickly, double checking the disk in his pocket. He set both the computer and jacket next to his pillow, and crawled back under the scratchy covers.

 

Work the next day started the way it always did, with the mob of black-uniformed workers passing silently in the gate, their standard soft soled shoes making little more than whispers on the tiled floor. Today, even small movements caught from the sides of his eyes made Mike start, and ever since he'd jarred himself awake he'd felt a perpetual tingle of adrenalin in his limbs. Masking a yawn, not particularly caring to suck in the smoggy air with the sharp, bitter tinge to it, he moved rigidly past the twin human guards in their black "Saki Corps" uniforms with the crowd of workers. Ever present in the halls they posed with discipline, commanding a quiet orderliness with their sternness. The Sentry-Droids in the streets were another story, buzzing around overhead, and occasionally swishing low over the mobs with a trail of bluish exhaust that made his throat tighten up. Those shiny green security guards seemed to be somewhat out of Saki's hands.

Bypassing his office with what he hoped was an air of casualness, Mike stepped deliberately into the office supplies room. A female employee with orange patches of skin on her hands and head was slowly looking through a large box for a certain kind of data unit. Meticulously, she lifted each one out and looked at it. Mike pretended to be engrossed in a stack of hand-held audio recording devices, fiddling with the buttons, reading about the different features on the box. She picked up the next data storage unit and stared at it. 'Come ON!' Mike glanced sideways at the black-clad guard down the hall. If she would just move so he could replace this one before they knew it was gone... ! Finally, she returned the last one to the box, looking disappointed and exited the room.

Mike sprang into action, his fingers numb. Pretending he needed to see something stored behind the door, he swung it shut most of the way. From under his uniform he produced the data unit and shoved it into the box. All he could think of was getting back to his office.

Sliding out the door, Mike took a right to avoid the guard, and went around the long way to his office, the fabric of his pants swishing together as he strode over the burnt sienna carpet. The tiny office was plain, and only differentiated from his neighbors' by the number on the door, which he closed quietly. With a shaky breath, he eased into the gray chair, turning on the main computer and wishing for a window to let a little of the muted red sunlight in.

He had gotten away with it, and the information was safe on his palmtop computer. Was this the brother he remember from so many years ago? He would find out, but he had to be smart about this, wait for the right time. If he was crafty, he could slip around the system. They couldn't watch him every moment.

Mike frowned at the computer. Nothing was on the screen, and the normal soft hum of it running wasn't there. Flipping switches on and off, checking the power, waiting... it never started up. Clenching a fist with frustration, Mike pulled open the door to get some help with his machine, and noticed with a little start that the guard was already sternly marching in his direction. Down the long dark hall to the other direction, another guard hurried toward him with a fierce glare.

A chill suddenly flowed from the pit of Mike's stomach through his arms and legs. Eyeballing the distance, he bolted from his office before he knew what he was doing, and ducked into a side corridor. Just as he turned the corner, he saw the guard to his left lunge into a sprint. Mike dashed down the hall and he half slid down a cold flight of stairs, scraping one leg painfully on the concrete. He emerged, already panting from the shape his sedentary lifestyle had left him in, into a busy, bright entryway full of people.

Mike elbowed and pushed through the crowd, stirring up a series of cries. He glanced back to see the two guards burst out of the stairwell, shoving through the mob. Pushing harder through the sea of black uniforms, yearning to break free, the commotion rose up behind him, from his trail. The thick mob hindered him like the deep current of the sewer. Mike shoved and clawed to get through, catching sight of another security guard making his way toward Mike. His stomach tied in a knot, and Mike pressed against the soft mass of people harder, until he was almost to the door. He found a little calm pocket, by the door by a huge window that over looked the steep stone steps down to the street.

A guard tackled Mike hard, catching him off balance and knocking the wind out of him. Bracing to crash into something solid, he turned a little to take the impact with his shoulder and shell. The window gave way, as he slammed through it. He hit the ground hard, and skidded down a few steps.

The roar of cries of alarm faded for a second, then amplified. Mike, dizzy and disoriented, tried to move himself into a sitting position, but his leg objected. With a moan he looked up at the broken window and the line of gawkers. The security guard was just now emerging from the crowded doorway, and Mike was sure the other two weren't far behind.

Leaving a smear of blood where he had landed, Mike broke into a blind run down the first path he saw, knocking down some workers in the street and dodging a few cars that swerved and panicked.

He wasn't sure how he managed to avoid the security guards, but soon he was huddled between some rank dumpsters and crates in an alley, bleakly staring at the shard of glass with blood oozing out around it in his leg. He barely noticed his other injuries, cuts and a painfully sore shoulder. With a sigh, he rested his head back against the wall, but his neck started to throb, and his hands began to shake, not just from the ordeal, but from the lack of his Rations. He was in bad shape and he knew it, and had no place to go that the guards from Saki Corps wouldn't find him... or did he? With a small groan of pain, Mike stood and went to the end of the alley and looked around. He wasn't positive, but he thought the mystery address he'd found of the robotics company was located only a few blocks to the east. Straightening his uniform, he slipped into the crowd as discreetly as possible and tried to mask the shudders of pain until he reached his destination.

At about the same location as he had tentatively placed the address in his mind, there stood a slightly run down brown warehouse, amid the tall, flawless black buildings of Saki Corps. Sounds of power machinery and construction came from the building, as Mike came closer, as well as the smell of welding torches. Inside the huge space were workers clustered around giant robots, more like robotic suits of armor, assembling them, programing them, testing them, in a huge flurry of movement. Making his way through them unnoticed, Mike was mixed with a combination of awe and dread. The sight reached right into his mind and stirred the little boy he had once been, who had always believed that the images he saw in sci-fi could be real. But he knew what they were being constructed for. This was the new design of Sentry-Droid, to monitor the city and enforce the laws even more strictly. And Oroku Saki had ordered thousands of them. Mike shook his head a little and groaned. His body was going cold and he wanted to lay down and sleep where he was. He had to do something fast.

Noticing an office separate from the rest of the building, Mike made his way painfully to it, past the busy workers who seemed so focused in on what they were doing they didn't even notice him. He opened the door and slipped into the messy office.

In the center was one of the machines, nearly completed, but the design and color were different from the others. Someone was halfway inside the cockpit, working on it intently and murmuring a song tunelessly. Only his legs and feet were visible, and the baggy, greasy pants and heavy boots gave no hint about who was inside of them. Suddenly unsure of himself, Mike took a silent step backwards, as the worker became aware of Mike's presence in the room and dropped to the floor.

The two stared at each other. Mike looked past the odd, thick goggles, bulky leather gloves, and stained dingy brown jacket and detected a glimmer of familiarity.

"No... I had a bad feeling you'd come here. "

"Don?"

Pulling the goggles off, Don nodded. "Yeah, 'fraid it is me. Now we gotta get you outta here."

"Out?" Panic crept into Mike's voice. "No. Look at me, Don," Mike held up a bloodied arm. "I don't have any other place to go."

Don nodded. "The warrant for your arrest was just sent in moments ago. When I saw the name, I wondered if it was really you. The Sentry-Droids on patrol now already are looking for you. You're just lucky the new line hasn't been released yet." Don smirked, proud. "Those can hunt down prey anywhere, even inside buildings. And the first wave of them will be on duty tomorrow morning."

The room was spinning. "Don."

Don sighed. "Don't worry. I'm a fool at times — like now — but blood is still thicker than... well... Follow me." After locking the office door, Don showed Mike over to a large vent. Climbing up, Don reached into the metal vent and unlatched something, speaking rapidly, "Crawl up into the dark tube to the right. Do not stop at any time for any reason or make any kind of noise. I assume you still remember some ninja training. Keep going until you run into the end of it, then climb down the metal ladder. I'll be behind you the whole time. And remember — you owe me big, Mikey. "

 

Mike woke up some time later in a pile of blankets, and looked around at the brick walls and ceiling and floor with an odd feeling of well-being now that the room had stopped spinning and his body had stopped shaking. His wounds were bandaged. Crawling through the tight tunnel had been a nightmare, and he only had a vague memory of emerging into the sewers and Don opening a hidden trap door into this room, then giving him something strange tasting to drink, telling him it would make him feel better.

The room was illuminated by the blue flickering of a computer screen that Don hunched over, clicking away at the keys quickly with one hand. Mike slid out of the warm makeshift bed and went silently to Don's side, for the first time noticing that Don was missing most of his left hand, and his scarred face looked much older than Mike's.

"Hey, Don, is this part of the old lair?"

"No, I never went back there. Did you?"

"Nope."

Don suddenly turned his head to Mike and proudly announced, "I'm making you virtually disappear!" The goggles magnified his eyes comically to Mike.

"How?"

"I've gotten into all of the records Saki Corps has, some that I had been given access to before, some I wasn't even supposed to know about. Extremely detailed files on everybody. 3,809,021 of us survivors in this city — the entire known population of the world is at my fingertips! Well, now, it's 3,809,020, since you don't exist! Ha! If for any reason they realize the records have been tampered with and try to access your files, I picked some poor sap at random..." with a few keystrokes Don brought up the file and read the name, "uh... Vernon Fenwick. They'll get his data instead of yours!"

Mike blinked. "Wow."

"'What about the warrant for my arrest?' you ask? It's all taken care of. It still exists, but I introduced a little wild card into it. Going back to this same database, when the computers in the Sentry-Droids access the file, instead of the search being for you, a random ID number will be substituted instead. Each of them will be hunting down a different person! Genius, pure genius! And chaos, I might add! But the older machines out there already are looking for you, so you still have to be careful. I couldn't cancel their orders without it being too suspicious."

"Wow! This is... wow! But, shouldn't you get some sleep, Don?"

"Sleep? Pah!" Don waved one hand as if to dismiss the idea. "I did away with that years ago."

Mike gave him a blank look.

"See this red light here?" Don showed Mike the inside of his goggles, where synchronized tiny red lights flashed inside. "It simulates sleep, while allowing me to function normally. Sleep was just a bother. Always there were improvements to be made, business deals to form, work to be done, work, work — can't sleep with all that in your head. But I have been known to take a few natural naps occasionally. Doesn't do much for me. So, you feeling better? The medicine help?"

Slightly bewildered by his brother's ramblings, Mike nodded again.

"My own invention. Most of my workers came from Saki Corps and I had to get them off of that crap they give you to keep you addicted and working there. Think of it as an antidote. It purifies your system and also eases the effects of the withdrawal. Let me give you some extra." Don stood and opened a rickety wooden cabinet, and handed Mike two bottles of the thick yellow liquid.

"Thanks." Mike sat down on the blankets, and looked at his brother silhouetted against the glow of the computer screen. "Don, what do we do from here? I may not be in the computer anymore but what do I do? And since you have all of this knowledge, are... Raph and Leo still out there? Splinter?"

Don sighed. "Let me tell you something, brother. The first part you know all too well. We're ten years old when the bombs drop. Almost 100% of the Earth's surface is rendered uninhabitable, except this little chunk of New York City where a wealthy and before almost unknown businessman, Oroku Saki, uses technology from another world to erect the barrier around us and create a false oasis. Saki becomes like a god, the rest of us kiss our former lives goodbye and become drones. You know this story all too well.

"Abandoned or lost or orphaned children are thrown into strict academies. Even mutants like us. They give us 'normal' names and assimilate us as much as possible. Everyone has their DNA catalogued, gets assigned a number. And everyone — regardless of what their job was before — is put to work at Saki Corps. Anybody who resists get killed." Don crossed his arms. "Raph is dead, Mike! We managed to stick together for a few years but… our first day on the job, Raph went — well he always had some kind of chemical imbalance. He loses it, goes berserk and the guards kill him. In front of me."

"Oh. " Mike dropped his eyes to the floor to avoid Don's gaze.

"I go to the top of my class. I become obsessed. I deal with the devil, Saki, myself. I form this business, and successes because I'm the best, the most ruthless. I kiss up, I let Saki think he owns me, but I have a claw in the power over this city. I know the most. You see, brother? All my life I've been building my secret empire to destroy Saki and take over, but I know I can't do it. But you can, Mike."

"What do you mean?"

"Implant. In here." Don tapped the side of his head with the stub of his wrist. "Even as independent as I am, that was the only way Saki would let me get to where I am. He owns my life. I have to keep him thinking that I'm on his side, because he can kill me, no matter where I am, in an instant. If I remove it I die. And when he dies... I go with him." Don turned his head and looked at Mike sideways, the flickering computer light playing over the pores of his face.

"But why would he do that to you?"

"Because he knows that with him gone, I would be next in line to take over. I have the power, the money, and most importantly, I have the control over the Sentry-Droids. I could wipe out the remains of his establishment. He wants to make sure that his rule would go to one of the high-ranking people in his inner circle, and the only way is to make sure that I'm not around."

Don leaned toward Mike. "But now that you're here, we can kill him. And when I'm gone, you can take my place. There hasn't been anyone I've trusted enough, not even in my own company — but I want you to do it."

"What?! I don't know how to run this stuff! Don, this is..."

"What do you want to do, Mike!? It's not like you can go back to your normal life now! Do you even want to? But you could be free! You could take over! Free those miserable zombies, let them regain their humanity if you want. Search for Splinter, finish your Ninja training, paint flowers and rainbows on the buildings — I don't give a shit what you do, just help me kill him so I can die happy, brother."

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Everything you need is here, Mike," Don said, in a softer tone. "It's not hard; I can teach you. All the hard work is already done. The program to control the robotic guards — and I can give you sole access over them, they can take out Saki's human guards in an instant. My workers won't oppose you. Instructions on how to make the remedy for the Rations, how to get into the records, make all the changes you want. God it's so simple now that I've set it all up. It's yours, brother."

Mike set his jaw, the information swimming in his head. Something made everything Don said sound good. "So how do we kill him?"

Don sighed in relief. "Get me a sample of Saki's flesh or blood. That way, I can send the robots to destroy him, since they detect DNA. Otherwise, he's as good as invisible to them, since he has no record of his DNA or himself at all in the database, like there is of everybody else. And you have to get samples from his two assistants also since there's nothing on them here. Be on your toes when it comes to them. Expect anything. Now, I can get you in to see Saki if you can pass as me. We look enough alike, it should be no problem to fool him for long enough." Don rummaged around some equipment, and came up with a complex looking device with straps to go around the wrist and forearm. "You can use this to scan in the information from their DNA samples and send it directly to me from their location, so we don't even have to wait. I can destroy them within minutes." He grinned oddly. "Now, let's get to work!"

 

Mike emerged into the ruddy, filtered sunshine for the first time in a few days. During the short walk to Saki's main office, Mike's appearance got a lot of attention from the uniformed people on the street. He was dressed head to toe in Don's greasy work clothes, the heavy goggles discreetly flashing the red light. The clunky device strapped to his arm would transmit the necessary signal to Don, as well as disguising his hand. He tried to incorporate a little of Don's swagger into his walk, and push aside his gnawing concerns. His arms were sore from doing his first nunchuck katas in over thirty years, but the weight of the chucks Don had given him, hidden under his clothes, was comforting.

With a haughty nod to the human guards that he hoped mimicked Don's, Mike stepped into the elevator and breathed deeply a few times. The hours of pouring over the computer programs with Don, rehearsing different scenarios and how to react to them, and finally Mike's odd parting with Don, knowing that most likely this day would result in one or both of their deaths, and the way Don shrugged it off and almost didn't even seem to realize it, haunted Mike, like chattering voices in his head. 'Concentrate on the task at hand,' he told himself, taking another deep breath.

A swarm of the machines with Don and his most loyal employees at the controls was poised outside, ready to burst in and take out Saki and his personal guards, as soon as Mike could transmit a sample of their DNA to them. That meant he had to draw blood from them and hope he survived long enough to send the signal. Then the elevator reached its location, and the doors opened into an extravagant, marble floored room.

A red haired receptionist nodded at him and gestured for him to go through the massive doors. Swallowing his fear, Mike did so quietly.

The huge office inside was ornate, sophisticated and dimly lit. The gray swirled marble floor echoed with his footsteps, as he crossed the room, around a circular, sunken pool of red and white koi fish. The walls and ceiling were covered with gray plush, almost like carpeting, giving the room odd acoustics. Large windows filtered the red glow of the smog into a cool bluish light. Everything in the room pointed to the desk, where sat an aging Japanese man watching Mike with a cold face. Almost invisible behind him, a guard dressed entirely in black posed with an ornate sword, like a statue. A second, smaller guard lurked further back in the shadows.

Mike stood at the other side of the desk, his heart pounding.

"I am very disappointed with the havoc your new robotic guards have been causing," Saki stated.

"Uh, I do apologize. It was merely caused by a slight malfunction. Several of my employees have been reprimanded, but I will accept full blame."

Saki eyed Mike, with demons behind his pupils. The guard stepped forward and whispered something to Saki, then resumed the statue pose.

"You have outlived your usefulness," Saki told him, never moving his eyes. His hand depressed a white button on the desk without hesitation.

Something struck Mike to the very center of his being. It was a connection he hadn't felt in years, but immediately he knew what it was, with a shudder of horror. Don's death.

He realized he'd felt it once before. That must have been when they lost Raph.

"So," mused Saki, watching Mike intently, "you _are_ the last brother! Sent here to kill me by Tello, are you?" He chuckled, soundlessly. "Fool. I let him think he was smarter than he was." Saki smirked.

Mike's eyes widened, and with rage he pulled a hidden dagger. "No." He lunged at Saki, only to find himself on his back with the dark guard pinning him before he knew what had happened. His knee was at Mike's throat, his sword raised.

"A touching reunion, isn't it," Saki said, cryptically. "Trouble me no more with this. I want it taken care of and never mentioned again. Out of my sight." Then he vanished, walking into the wall behind his desk which rippled like heat waves from a fire.

The guard spoke low and used his words as if he had to purchase every letter. "Those who oppose the master must be killed." The sword came down, but suddenly stopped as the guard jerked. Then his body thudded to the floor, the sword clattering into the fish pond. Mike Gasped for air, smelling blood, his eyes widened at the sight of a throwing dagger embedded in the guard's neck, the red spreading quickly.

For a moment, Mike was completely overcome by anguish, once again, as well as an awareness of someone else in the room. Someone else who was feeling the same pain.

"You have come to end Saki's reign?" asked the hoarse voice of the killer. It was the second black-clad guard.

Mike sat up, pulling himself together. "Yeah. All I need is a sample of his blood to turn the Droids against him."

"Then hurry! There is no time! Catch up to Saki!" The small figure sprinted noiselessly across the room and into the false wall.

Mike got up and followed with only one glance back at the dead guard. He thought he saw a little green peeking through the tattered uniform. Then everything wavered and Mike went through the false wall.

The struggle was already going on, between Saki, surprisingly strong and agile for his age, and the turncoat guard, fighting with a dagger and holding his own in battle.

"Here!" cried out the raspy voice and tossed to Mike a bloodied dagger, just as Saki took the opportunity to tackle his opponent. Mike caught it and looked at it numbly for a second before his brain went into gear and he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Don had said the plan was fail safe, and the computers would do the job automatically, even if Don couldn't give the command. Mike wiped the bloody knife into the scanning device on his arm and activated it, sending the data back to the robots. Saki threw the small opponent against the wall soundly, with rage on his face and a fierce snarl in Japanese.

Mike drew his nunchucks. Now they just had to wait. He'd try to defend the guard who had helped him if he possibly could.

"Quickly, there is no time!" the small warrior told him, getting slowly to his feet as Saki advanced menacingly. "In the back room, there is a creature — his secret partner!"

Spotting the door, Mike wasted no time getting to it and into the small room, all lined in metal. He coldly observed the strange site — a creature stared at him with intelligence and cruelty, eyes sunken into his soft, pink body, crisscrossed with pulsating purple veins. The alien was confined to a clear tank of bubbling, thick clear liquid rising up from the floor, with an unusual kind of control panel on the inside of the lower part of the tube. Narrowing its eyes, one tentacle touched the controls and a sparking bolt of energy shot out of the ceiling and into Mike, sending shooting pains through all of his body.

Smiling inhumanly, the creature slowly released the button and the beam stopped. Mike's brain felt like it was about to shut down, but he forced himself to keep going. Nunchuck still clamped in his fist, he slammed it into the tank repeatedly. A crack appeared but it didn't shatter apart, so Mike kept hammering as the blindingly bright shock came over him again. Past rational thought, Mike tried to ignore the pain as his training had taught him so long ago, and he pounded at the tank, expanding the crack into a spider web of fractures, until the side exploded out with the warm liquid, and the creature fell to the wet floor and gasped for breath.

Shoulders shaking with rage, Mike watched it die, unable to survive outside of its capsule. He left it there, disgusted, and made it into the bigger room just in time to see the whole wall caved in. The machine Don had been constructing for his own personal use came through the wall. Its creator was dead — Mike got a clear look at him, slumped over in the cockpit — but it followed its programed orders.

The two opponents looked up from their struggle with shock and surprise, but Saki barely had time to react before he was picked up in its mechanical claws. Knowing what would happen next, Mike ran across the room and pulled the guard out through the false wall, into the immaculate office before there came a massive explosion from behind. Blindly they ran ahead of the fireball and raining debris, down through the building and through the chaotic mob on the street.

The whole city seemed to rumble and vibrate with each following explosion, and the sky rained down embers, as the army of Sentry-Droids buzzed overhead. Mike stared in awe at it, disbelieving, sheltering the small figure next to him without knowing why he did so until the old voice once again spoke.

"Three of my sons gone, and two tonight. One by my own hand. I could not let him kill you, and I'm afraid he would no longer have heeded my command to stop. And yet finally, you and I are reunited, Michaelangelo. There may be hope for our family."

Mike looked down, almost past the point of being shocked by anything, and pushed back the dark hood to reveal the weary face of a gray-furred Splinter.

 

Far below the street, rapid words were yelled back and forth in Chinese as the explosions and sounds of chaos above caused another cave-in of the weak spot in the ceiling. This old den, found abandoned years ago, had served as a fine home for two wishing to remain hidden from the rule of the evil above, and now they gathered in the center of the makeshift living room to wonder about what insanity was happing above in the human world.

The man was old, and leaned heavily on his daughter, as something flashed through both of their minds. "Do you feel that, Mei Pieh Chi? The evil world comes to an end above us. The new era is about to begin."


End file.
